


Just Your Average Friday Night

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Frottage, M/M, Smut, Threesome, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:05:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet some fascinating gentlemen at the bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Your Average Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> {{ michael/gavin/male!reader - smut. ))

You’ve been watching them all night. They’re both ridiculously cute in their own way, and together they’re downright adorable. Thankfully, they haven’t caught you staring yet.

You’re just kind of mulling at the bar, going through scotch at an easy pace, just fast enough to give you a pleasant buzz. By the time you’re just drunk enough to consider heading home, there’s a hand at the small of your back. You look to your left, and there he is. The curly haired one.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” He asks, and his voice is a perfect match for his face. You tilt your glass, as if to show him your drink.

“Crazy Friday night. Stop me before I get too wild,” you deadpan, shrugging a bit. He laughs at that, and you’re hyper-aware of the hand that slides off of your back, lingering a little longer than necessary before you lose contact completely. His eyes flicker up, and you follow his gaze, turning your head to your right. And there’s his partner leaning on the counter with his body facing you, and he’s got a cute little smile and he might be standing a little too close for someone who’s never spoken to you and you can catch a whiff of his cologne and suddenly you feel just a little too hot.

“Evenin’ lad,” he greets, and the accent is silk in your ears.

“Evening,” you reply, managing to keep your voice from cracking.

He nods to your drink, asks what it is.

“Just a step between me and going home,” is all you say, and he looks serious for a moment.

“Alone?”

You close your mouth, finally making proper eye contact, set your now empty glass on the bar.

“Good question,” you challenge.

His lips quirk.

__________

Gavin pushes you into the bedroom, with Michael very close behind.

You grab him by his shirt and drag him closer to kiss him, rough and needy. His hands thread through your hair, and you have no idea where Michael is. Well, not until Gavin moans into your mouth, and you break apart to let him bury his head in your shoulder. You glance over to Michael, who’s busying himself sucking on a patch of his lover’s neck, hands hidden in his shirt. Gavin’s hands are clawing at your back, and the ginger does something to him that makes his hip buck into yours. You grab Michael by the curls and drag him off his neck to kiss him over the Brit’s shoulder. He’s a totally different, though not unpleasant, taste. They do, however, share two very distinct similarities: your scotch, and their beer. Beer usually wasn’t your forte, but on their tongues you may learn to like it yet.

You pull away from Michael and with a shared look, your fingers find the hem of the Brit’s shirt and slide it up his chest, over his head. You put your hands on his hips and pivot him around, pushing him onto the bed. You crawl over him, and Michael joins you. You suck on the patch just under his ear, and Michael is roaming down his chest, tripping up little places he know will get him some positive feedback. You watch him from the corner of your eye, because that just may be the hottest thing that you’ve ever seen and yeah, you could definitely get used to these two.

You rip your own shirt off, getting uncomfortably hot, and see Michael do the same. You grab his shoulders and pull his chest flush to yours, hands in his hair and tongue in his mouth. His hands drop to grab your ass, pull your hips to his. Gavin’s hands are running up Michael’s thighs, nips at his side and makes him squirm against you. You venture down to his chest, licking a flat-tongued stripe up his ribs to his nipple, cocking your head for Gavin to join you. He doesn’t hesitate, and it doesn’t take long to have him panting. The Brit is palming himself through his jeans beside you, and you place your hand overtop of Michael, keeping your hand still, and he whines, trying to buck up into the pressure, but Gavin’s hand is immediately at his hip and he starts to shake. You suck at his nipple, hard, and he thrusts up so hard that Gavin actually falters in holding him. Grinning against his skin, you give one last swirl of your tongue and start nipping and sucking your way down Michael’s chest, retracing the same stripe from before, continuing it to his hipbone.

You continue your path to the right, dipping your tongue into his naval and biting at the skin just below it, tilt your head down past his belt to the bulge in his jeans and latch your mouth over it. Michael purrs his approval, but it ends with a sharp uprising in tone when Gavin does something above you that you can’t see. You make quick work of his pants, unbuckling the belt in record time and dragging the jeans off of him and onto the floor. You start mouthing his dick through his boxers.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and Gavin’s ducked his hand into his pants, stroking himself. You manage to hold off, more worried about getting this curly haired _bastard_  to keep making those fan _tastic_ noises. So your tongue darts out over the head, rolling over it, and he bucks up against your mouth.

“C’mon stop…stop bein’ a tease,” Michael mutters, hands tightening on the sheets. You ignore him, lipping your way to the base, pressing your tongue against his balls,  _very_  lightly teething your way back up.

“Sto- aaaah, stop, please, fuck, please,” is all he can manage, and you bite his thigh. You feel Gavin mold against your back, his hands trailing down your chest. You lean back into him, pulling Michael’s boxers off of him to join his jeans on the floor. You wait until he finally looks down at you, and without breaking eye contact, swallow him down.

You don’t take him all the way, instead using your hand to cover the rest, and his head falls back as he groans. You flatten your tongue against the frenulum, flick the tip up over it. You lip your way down to the base, wrap your lips around as much as you can on the side and slide back up, suck the head. The whimpers and moans and gasps go straight to your cock, and when Gavin’s hands synchronize to twist your nipples, you moan around Michael and make him groan out loud. Gavin unzips your jeans, slides a hand over the boxers and palms you through the cloth. You buck into the touch, gasping cold air over Michael’s cock.

Gavin, at some point, has stripped himself of his clothing, and proceeds to take off yours. You shiver, feeling exposed and needy.

Michael leans back, just enough to reach the side table and pulls open the drawer. He shuffles things around, lets out a frustrated sound. You slide your mouth off of his dick with a loud ‘pop’ and turn your head to Gavin.

“It’s, ah- …it’s on this side,” you manage, trying to clear your head of the foggy feeling of alcohol and lust. Gavin pulls away, and you shudder at the loss of contact. Michael drags you up to kiss him, and it’s actually really nice - a perfect blend of sweet and needy and a little drunk, but not too sloppy. Your hand goes to the small of his back and pull him a little closer to you, hovering over him with one hand on the bed to support yourself. When you need to breathe, Gavin takes your place, and it’s the first time you actually get to see them kiss.

Your mouth falls open, because they have this perfect harmony of  _knowing,_  of how Gavin instantly gives in to Michael’s tongue, how Michael’s hand is firmly holding Gavin’s chin, how Gavin sucks his lip when his tongue withdraws. You’re vaguely aware of the half-strangled sound that falls from your lips and they barely separate to look at you, and Michael grins. At what, you never learn, because Gavin lunges at you, settling his knees on either side of yours and lining his cock up right against yours. There’s no hesitation, and he thrusts up, and he ruts against the head and you almost sob. He swipes his tongue over his lip and you’re fascinated, fixating on the movement. You look over to Michael, who’s got one hand on a nipple, one hand on his cock, and he’s definitely teasing, light touches and full-body trembling. A lubed finger presses against you and you lean into it as he slides it into you. It’s not long before you’re begging for more, and he complies, two, then three fingers. He’s efficient in prepping you, and you don’t need much anyway, bucking up with his thrusts and down with his fingers.

“Fuck,” you cry out as Gavin fucks against the head of your cock again. “I’m- let me- wait,” you finally manage, struggling to coherently speak. He seems to get it, pulling his fingers out and you crawl onto all fours, hands reaching out to pull Michael closer as Gavin slides on a condom, lubes himself up with a few strokes. You moan into the ginger’s mouth as he slowly slides in, steadying your hips with his hands. Your hand falls to Michael’s cock, heavy in your palm. You start to stroke, slow, and Gavin matches your pace, and you look over your shoulder to see him watching Michael, watching his face, and for some reason it makes you even hotter. You twist your wrist with a rough upstroke and he lets out a strangled cry, and you swear Gavin’s eyes light up. You return to your slow pace, and it’s almost teasing. You want to go faster, want Gavin to go faster, but you don’t want it to be over, not yet.

You latch your teeth onto the skin below Michael’s ear, kiss down his jawline, drag your tongue down his neck. You suck at his collarbone and shoulders, leaving marks that won’t go away for days. You tweak his nipple, and he gasps your name. You start ravishing the nub with your mouth, speed up your hand almost imperceptibly faster. Gavin does the same, pausing every once in a while to pull all the way out, and slide all the way back in, all at a painfully slow pace that makes you want to punch him for making you wait. But when he does that, you do the same to Michael’s cock, and his expression is so very worth it.

“Mi- ah, fuck - Michael,” you moan out and his eyes instantly train on you. “Michael please, let me suck your cock, please,” you whine out, all for show to see him flustered. He doesn’t disappoint, skin flushing and cock twitching in your hand. He slides up the bed as you duck down, taking him back into your mouth. You moan around him and he thrusts up shallowly, groaning your name.

“God you look so good,” Gavin praises you from above, a hand smoothing up your back. You purr, and the vibrations have the ginger shaking. “Just can’t get enough, can you? Love his cock in your mouth? Love me thrusting in you like this?” You grin around Michael, ‘mmmn’ing in approval.

“Michael,” the Brit continues, “So needy. Not enough is it? Want him to fuck you? Suck you off and fuck you hoarse, hmm? God I love when you can’t even scream my name anymore.” He drapes himself onto your back, and silently passes you the lube. You take the hint and lather up your fingers.

“Why don’t you let them know, Michael? Let the neighbors know how much you love it. How good we treat you.” You take this as your cue to suck, cheeks hollowing, as you press a finger into him. He screams out, first your name, then Gavin’s, mixed in with nonsense.

“Good boy,” Gavin praises, and you’re not sure whom it’s directed to. He starts fucking you harder now as you slip a second finger in, meeting less resistance than you thought. You look over your shoulder, silently asking if you should continue. He shakes his head, and you turn back to Michael, swallowing him down again. You start to shallowly thrust your fingers in time with Gavin, and bob your head down onto Michael. He’s a whimpering mess, babbling your name and Gavin’s and words you aren’t quite sure are even words. The Brit’s hand pets your hair, the back of your head, and you croon, leaning into the touch. He scratches gently, as if rewarding you, and his other hand finds your cock. Michael fights the urge to buck as you brush against his prostate, moaning out. You harmonize with him, albeit muffled, when Gavin angles himself to do the same to you. He starts stroking you, and you know you aren’t far now. It’s all so overwhelmingly good. His hand keeps pace with your head and his thrusts, and fire burns low in your belly.

With a few more thrusts of your fingers and a swirl of your tongue on his frenulum, Michael cries out, pushing your head away in time to come onto his chest, bucking against the fingers that continue to gently fuck into him. Gavin speeds up, fucking you hard and fast and just enough that within a few more strokes he’s got you coming too, and he follows after.

It’s ages before Gavin finally pulls out of you, and you remember to slide your fingers out as well. You try to stand, knees giving a coltish wobble before you can steady yourself, making your way to the bathroom. You clean off and pause in the doorway to see Gavin lying on his side, arm draped over Michael and whispering to each other. They look up and give little smiles to you, one you sleepily return. Michael goes to clean off after, and you sit on the bed with Gavin wrapped around you until it’s his turn.

You all half-heartedly slide on boxers, Gavin borrowing one of your shirts, and fall into bed together. The Brit curls around your left side, Michael on his right, both wrapping an arm around your waist.

_________

When you wake up in the morning, they’re reluctant to get up, but upon recognizing where they are, manage to convince one another to get out of bed. It’s cute, really, and you don’t regret last night like you thought you would.

You walk them out the door to their car, and they stop to say goodbye. Gavin doesn’t bother with subtleties, pulling you in for a full-on kiss.

“So let’s do this again soon,” you say, and they laugh.

“How soon?” He purrs playfully.

Smirking, you press him against the car. “Now.”

At your side, Michael grins.


End file.
